Target Practice
by Heart Iconography
Summary: Isaac thinks Allison could use a friend. Allison thinks Isaac would make a good volunteer for target practice. (One shot, maybe). Isaac/Allison. (Rated T for now) Reviews adored and made into a little shrine.
1. Whose Woods Are These?

Allison came to the woods a lot lately - not that she told anyone. Despite being proficient in hunting, and pretty much excelling in every weapon known to man, her father (and not to mention Scott) seemed to think she was the type of girl that needed protecting. And Allison knew herself well enough to know that she wasn't that girl - at least, not usually.

Since she had been submerged in that icy tub of water though, things had changed. The darkness around her heart, or whatever Scott's boss had called it... it had changed her. Made her hands shaky. Made her mind play tricks on her. She wouldn't admit to anyone, but she spent about forty percent of her day not even sure where she was anymore.

Attempting to steady her bow, Allison tried to clear her mind of her worrisome thoughts. The wind blew a piece of brown hair in front of her eyes and she shook her head slightly, trying to clear her field of vision. She should've known better than to wear her hair down, but she couldn't remember the last time she made it to noon without getting a migraine.

Somewhere to her left she heard the rustling of leaves. Whipping her bow around in the general direction of where it came from, praying to God it was just a deer or other non-supernatural animal, her eyes searched out the source of the noise.

"Come out!" Allison called.

Silence. At least, silence for a good full minute before she heard the noise again, this time it sounded like footsteps.

"I mean it! Come out right now! I'm armed, and probably more dangerous than either of us would like to find out!"

Then she heard it - a familiar, dry chuckle. Allison couldn't help but feel her muscles relax at the sound of it. She imagined her bones turning to jelly like the yellow-bellied coward she was turning into. Gritting her jaw, she mustered what little pride she had left at let the arrow fly at the closest approximation of the sound - it stuck in a big pine tree.

"So what?" she called. "Scott has you following me again? You really ought to get a hobby, Isaac."

Isaac stepped out from behind a tree, two from the left side of where she had shot her arrow; she was getting rusty.

"I'm not Scott's errand boy. I did him a favor that one time because... well, it suited me. I hadn't seen you in a while and I had to make sure you weren't impaling some other poor, innocent werewolf with knives."

Rolling her eyes, she threw her bow down onto the ground and waited for him to close the distance between them. Looking up at him, she noticed how different his blue eyes looked in the overcast sky - they were almost gray; like a chameleon, trying to blend into his surroundings.

"Oh, so now you're stalking me for fun? I thought following around teenage girls was more of a vampire thing."

"Hilarious," Isaac said. "So why aren't you in history class?"

"Because I'm here."

"Oh, that's fine - don't bore me with the details or anything," he said sarcastically.

"I certainly wasn't planning on it."

They stood there, staring at one another. Allison listened to the birds singing around them - anything to stop from concentrating on the pounding of her own heart. Why did Isaac always have to stand so close? It was like he knew what he did to her. Like he was toying with her. Like she was the prey. And God knows, she had been the prey more than she would've cared for lately.

"Listen, Allison, I know things have been hard for you since..." he trailed off, not knowing how to finish his thought. "And I know you don't need anyone, and even if you did, I'm sure I'd be last on your list of people to confide in. But I just don't like the thought of you going through this alone - I've went through a lot alone... and it's hell, Allison. I know it is."

"I'm not alone," Allison insisted.

"You're right. You're not alone. You've got people on every side of you who want to help - but you're choosing go it on your own. And as much as I respect the whole stoic, badass, girl with a bow thing... I'm not going to just let you fade into the background and pretend everything is alright."

"Maybe everything is alright," Allison countered.

"And maybe I'm not a werewolf - maybe I have a recessive canine gene on my father's side. Come on, don't bullshit a bullshitter."

Raising her chin, Allison wished with everything inside of her that it was true. That everything was alright. That she could brush of his concern and know in her heart that she wasn't lying. But she needed someone; a touchstone. A place to go. Scott was out for obvious reasons. Stiles was maybe even worse than she was. And Lydia was going through being a teenage Banshee. All in all, this damaged boy, with his recessive canine gene, was the closest thing she had to normal right now.

"Fine. I get it. I guess things haven't been great lately - to say the least. And I'm sure I could use some help. If you want, you could run around and be target practice for me?"


	2. I Have Promises To Keep

It was six days later when Isaac found Allison picking glass out of her own hand; she was standing in the late afternoon light of her bedroom, next to a shattered window. Though he had certainly seen enough carnage to last him a lifetime, something about the sight of her blood made him freeze.

"Allison?" he asked, coming up behind her.

Startled, she turned. It was as if she hadn't heard him hollering for her when he first walked in - after he had heard the unmistakable sound of breaking glass; maybe she hadn't. Her dark eyes were wide and if Isaac were better with words he would say they were filled with ghosts. He watched her blink once, hard, and then stare up at him.

"Uh," Allison started, "I seem to have put my hand through my window a little bit."

"Or completely," Isaac countered.

Without asking he grabbed her wrist gently, examining the torn skin. It wasn't as bad as it could've been, but still, it wasn't great. Part of him couldn't help but notice how soft and small she felt in his hand. Or that she and her whole room smelled like a combination of vanilla and lavender.

"Well," he said, releasing her hand, "I'm afraid we'll have no choice but to amputate the hand. Don't worry though - I've seen Game of Thrones, and I can assure the one handed look will be very in this season."

"Oh, gross," Allison said as she wrinkled up her nose. "Couldn't I be the mother of dragons? I don't want to be the guy who bangs his sister."

"Interesting. Who knew Allison Argent was a big old' nerd?" he asked more to himself than her. For lack of conversation while he sought out her first aid kit he continued talking. "Okay, ultimate test: Books or show?"

"Both," Allison said. "Well, books first, then show."

"Me too," he said, flashing her a smile as he pulled out a pair of tweezers and began the slow process of removing the last bits of glass from her hand and wrist. "So... you know I've got to ask what happened?"

"I know," she said softly. "I just... I lost time for a while. I was here, then I was fighting off my aunt who was trying to kill me. Again. I mean, in my mind again. Not in real life again. We're messed up as a family, but my aunt never crossed that bridge at least."

Isaac said nothing. He began to clumsily wrap her hand up. He was used to doctoring himself, and he had always assumed it would be easier on another person, but it wasn't proving to be the case. By the time he was finished she looked like she was part mummy.

"Sorry," he said, nodding towards her hand. "I'm usually pretty decent at it when I'm wrapping myself up."

"You did this a lot?" she asked, her eyes filling with sadness.

"Werewolf, remember?"

"No, I mean... before," Allison clarified.

"Yeah. I did. Before."

"I'm sorry, you know," Allison said quietly. "I had only met your dad once or twice in passing. I never thought... I never noticed..."

"Don't feel bad," Isaac said. "No one really noticed me."

"Well, actually, I did notice you. It was my second day here. I was looking for my third period math class - the last bell had just rung and the halls were almost empty. And I saw you. For the first time. You were helping some kid pick up his books. There were all these loose papers around you two. The kid looked really upset - I figured someone had knocked the books out of his hand. And you were smiling at him, talking, handing his stuff back to him."

"I can't say I remember that," Isaac said awkwardly.

"Probably because over the course of this past semester I've seen you do the same thing for other kids. Even after you were turned. Guess you have a bit of a soft spot for society's misfits, Lahey."

"Well, lucky for you I think that being on the brink of a total psychotic meltdown might just qualify you to be a misfit of our society."

"Yes. Lucky me," she said laughing.

"So," Isaac began, sitting down on the edge on her bed, "what do you propose we don't about this? About you? Have you tried talking to Scott's boss again? Maybe he might be able to help you through some of it."

"No," Allison said, sitting next to him. "I know if he knew anything, Scott would've told me by now. I'm sure he's already asked. Have you seen Stiles walking around like the living dead? There's no way Scott would let that rest."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Isaac said. "Have you talked to you dad about it?"

"Not... to the full extent. I wanted to. I wanted to at least tell him the basics, if not the whole thing. But he had this trip coming up - and he had this very lame cover story about guns and the army. And I just knew it was something important. Something, well, supernatural. And I just couldn't bring myself to take that away from him, or us... I mean, whatever he's doing now, at least he's on the right side of this."

"You mean you're here alone?" Isaac asked.

"Yeah," Allison replied. "It's only supposed to be for a week though. And he used to go for a lot longer. But with mom gone, and it just being me... I already know he's cutting this a lot shorter than he usually would."

"It's not good for you to be alone," he said. "Is there anyone who could come over? Maybe Lydia?"

"I almost killed her. She may be a Banshee, but that doesn't really come with any great healing powers, unfortunately."

"And I don't suppose -"

"If you even suggest Scott, I will have to wonder at _your _sanity," Allison said, cutting him off.

"So I'll stay then," Isaac finished. "You don't have to beg. I told you we could already be friends."

"Hope you like sleeping on the couch," Allison said, rolling her eyes.

"Don't make me - how did Stiles put it - milk the whole _Dad put me in a freezer _thing."


	3. Of Easy Wind & Downy Flake

"What did you tell Scott?" Allison asked as she set her bag down on the couch, flopping down next to it.

"What did _you _tell Scott?" Isaac countered, nodding towards her hand, apparently trying to avoid the question.

"That I put my hand through a window," Allison said turning back to watch Isaac as he got a glass of water from the fridge, his movements deceptively at ease. "I couldn't really think of anything more creative or believable."

"Was he concerned?" Isaac asked.

"Well, he didn't high-five me, if that's what you mean," Allison said.

Isaac leaned against the counter, finishing his water in one go. He sat the glass down, rubbing a small circle into his temple with the pads of his fingers. Allison watched, somewhat transfixed by his hands before she realized they were supposed to be having a conversation, and he had wrangled his way out of her question - but she could tell he had a headache, and she couldn't help but take pity on him.

"Do you want something?" Allison asked abruptly. Isaac stared at her, confused as to what she was offering. "For your head, I mean. Do you want some Advil or something?"

"If it wouldn't be putting you out," Isaac said, sitting down on a chair at the kitchen table.

"I've been having a wide range of headaches so I have a pretty good stash. I doubt you could even put a dent in it, really," Allison explained as she walked over to her bag. She spent a minute rummaging through it until she found one of the bottles and tossed it to Isaac. "I'll get you some more water."

"You think I lied to him, don't you?" Isaac asked as Allison filled his glass back up with cold water. She was silent for a moment, then began moving around, putting ice in his water as she considered.

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised. Nothing against you, but I think most guys would lie when put in that situation. But I don't know what was said, so that's why I'm asking. You're not exactly the easiest guy to predict, you know? So I try to go into most things with no preconceived notions. It's just easier that way."

She set the glass down in front of him and watched him take the pill; the bounce of his Adam's apple caught her eye. Instead of answering he took another sip of water, then a big gulp. The silence settled between them, and it was a familiar feeling; nothing strange or edgy about it. Just two people, sitting at a kitchen table, as if they had done it many times before. Setting his glass back he turned to look at her.

"I didn't lie. I didn't really have to say much of anything. He must've talked to you first, and he came to me saying how concerned he was and how he had heard your father was gone this week - I guess he had checked in about something with Derek; Scott didn't really have the specifics. So I offered to keep an eye on you," he finished awkwardly.

"I'm going to try my best not to let in rankle me that you two were talking about me as if I were a child," Allison said, gritting her teeth.

"Trust me, we were not talking about you like you were a child. Unless Scott thinks I'm a pedophile or something. He was pretty concerned with where I would be sleeping and the amount of physical contact," Isaac said with a crooked grin.

"Oh, shut up," Allison said. "He was not."

"Apparently hugging is okay. If you're in distress. But kissing, man, that's going to be a whole world of pain for me," Isaac said holding his hands out as if warding her off. "So try to fight off your more impure impulses towards me, okay? I'm no true alpha here."

"That's right," Allison said walking up to him. She trailed her finger against his chest, raising her face up to his so their lips were almost touching and she grinned ruefully when his breath caught. "You're just a lowly Omega. Poor Isaac."

"You're evil," Isaac said, backing up a pace. "I don't know why everyone is so concerned about you. You're obviously the devil."

That made Allison laugh - hard. In a way she hadn't been able to laugh in a long time. She laughed longer than was probably expected for the joke, and Isaac stared at her, thinking her beautiful in her happiness. Wondering why people didn't go out of their way more to make Allison laugh just like this - because when she laughed just like this, what could really be wrong in the world?

"You're staring," Allison accused breathlessly.

"It's just nice to see you happy, I guess," Isaac said awkwardly. "I think we all usually have our own little personal black clouds following us around."

"I know that feeling, for sure," Allison said. "I know circumstances are weird, but it's nice to hang out with you. You're not half bad, Lahey."

"You'll be sick of me before the week's up," Isaac promised.

"I doubt it," Allison said, patting his shoulder.

"Well, that's reassuring," Isaac said. "I know it might be a little weird having me here - and like you said, the circumstances aren't exactly normal, but I'm happy to be hanging out with you, too. And I don't know at all what Scott meant about you being a total shrew."

"He didn't say that," Allison said laughing again.

"No," Isaac agreed easily, smiling at her. "I just wanted to hear you laugh again. Can't blame a guy."

"So," Allison started uneasily, wanting to change the subject, "do we do homework or do we blow it off and order a pizza?"

"Pizza. Obviously," Isaac shot back.

"Obviously," Allison agreed.


End file.
